Festival Day
by Neverfall
Summary: One very hyper girl and one very hyper Companion: will the Heralds ever recover? Rated for minor language.


Please forgive any tense mistakes-I switched tenses several times before settling on this one. It's set the first Midwinter after Yuki Chooses Cari, and if you don't know who they are, you should go read A Fairly Normal Choosing, by me. (So about six moons/months, give or take a week or two.) And I decided to have Chailya call Midwinter 'Festival Day' instead of 'Festival' because I have a choir thing that's called Festival, so I don't want to confuse myself.

Yeah, I know-Kari and Cari. This Kari only really appears in this chapter, though, so as to prevent confusion from happening.

Disclaimer: I do not own Companions, Valdemar/Velgarth, Heralds, Herald-Mages, the IDEA of any of these things, etc. etc. Basically, I don't own, so you don't sue unless you want Shamara and Bavol to peck out your eyes.

--

"Wake up!" I cry to my older sister. She's already half awake, due to the fact that I'm bouncing on her bed.

"Whazzat?" she mumbles, blinking.

"Wake up! It's Festival Day!"

"Oh."

"Is that all you can say? It's _Festival Day_!" I yelp. Kari is seventeen to my thirteen, and gets annoyed by me very often. Quite obviously, she was annoyed with me now.

"So?"

"There's free food! And a Herald might come! And there'll be Bards!" Really, how can you not get excited over Festival Day?

"Unh."

"Wake up, Kari!" She doesn't respond, so I resort to bribery. "Flynn'll be there…"

As always, the mention of Kari's redheaded beau brings her out of bed in an instant. "Right, then! Chailya, get dressed. I'll change out of my nightclothes, then we'll go wake the boys." I bounce over to my side of the room-we don't have many bedrooms, so our parents have one, then there's one for the boys and one for Kari and I.

I practically bounce into my clothes. I'm dressed in a flash, and I run out the door of our room, skidding around the corner of the hallway.

"Yamal! Zaeb! Orestes! Niall! Wake up! It's Festival Day!" I shriek, sliding past my brothers' door. Instead of waiting for an answer, I continue to slide, all the way into the main room of our four-room house. It's the biggest, even bigger than my brothers' room. The advantage to living right outside the city of Haven is that you have much more room for houses.

Well, we don't live right outside the wall. Orestes and my parents say that we used too, but when Yamal and Kari were born, they moved out here, to have more room for us to grow, or something like that. I have five siblings-Orestes, the oldest, at eighteen, Yamal and Kari at seventeen (they're twins), Zeab at fifteen, and Niall at fourteen. And there's me, the youngest, at thirteen.

My parents are all ready up, my mother at the fireplace cooking breakfast while my father lines up buckets of clean water for us to wash our hands in. He looks up at the noise I make, and grins ruefully.

"Sorry, Chailya, we didn't mean to wake you up. We wanted you to sleep in."

"You didn't wake me, Papa!" I shout. "I woke up all by myself!" Yep, that's me-a four-year-old trapped inside a thirteen-year-old body.

I bounce over to my mother. "Mama! It's Festival Day!" She rolls her eyes, then grins.

"Yes, Chailya, it's Festival Day. Why don't you wake up your siblings?"

"She all ready did," a wry voice from the doorway says. My brother Niall is standing there, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "She went careening down the hallway, shrieking at the top of her lungs, 'It's Festival Day!'" Despite his mock-annoyance, he strolls over to ruffle my hair. I grin at him, unrepentant. Niall is the closest to my age, and can put up with me longer.

By the way, 'Festival Day' is my name for Midwinter. I started calling it that when I was little, as it was a festival that lasted all day. No, I'm not very imaginative.

"Chailya, do you have to make so much noise so early in the morning?" grumps Zeab, who was right behind Niall. He's always grumpy in the morning. I only give him the same wide, beaming grin I've been giving everyone else, then chorus with Niall,

"But it's Festival Day!"

We say it just in time for the rest of our family to hear it. Orestes is in the lead, and he steps forward into the room, catching me up and swinging me around. I giggle, as I find this endlessly entertaining.

"Orestes, put your sister down," orders Mama, a slight smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. "All of you, wash up and sit down. It's time for breakfast." We all sit down on the floor to eat, as we always do. No, we don't have a table, as it would take up to much space to have on big enough for all of us to sit down at. Well, we do have one, but it's outside and currently buried in snow.

Huh, I s'pose you want to know what my family looks like. Well…Firstly, you can tell we're all related. Most of my siblings take after one of my parents. Orestes and Zeab, for example, both look like Papa-they're big, with thick golden-brown hair and bright brown eyes. Yes, brown. Not blue. What, you were expecting bright blue eyes? Nah, dream on.

Kari, Niall and I all take after Mama. We're mostly all very small for our respective ages, me especially. I'm at least a foot shorter than anyone else who's my age, and sometimes even shorter than people a year younger than me! We've also got Mama's very pale skin, very dark brown hair and dark green eyes, with delicate, bird-like features. Yamal's the exception-he's got Papa's height with Mama's slenderness, hair, and eyes. Yep, our family's a mixed-up bunch, indeed.

Now, where was I? Oh yes, breakfast.

Our oat porridge devoured, we stack up our bowls neatly by the hearth. Mama banks the fire, and we all scramble into coats, gloves and scarves while heading out the door. As always, I somehow manage to squeeze out the door first. I dart ahead, barely pausing for them to follow.

"Come on! Let's go!" I chant, as my family follows my progress at a slower pace. We're too far away from the city to walk, and anyways, Mama and Kari don't like cities-they claim that they feel too crowded when they're there. I think that their real reason is that they don't want me in crowded places where I'm sure to knock something large, important, and expensive over. So instead, everyone who lives around here throws a celebration out on a meadow that's really close to our houses. We get to the meadow in almost no time, and it's already starting to get crowded.

"Heyla!" Niall suddenly calls out. He hurries across the field towards someone he evidently knows. Papa and Mama exchange glances.

"Alright, my dears," he says, "You are free to do what you want for the rest of the day." Instantly, Orestes and Zeab head off to the woodworker's booth, while Kari heads in search of Flynn. Yamal drifts off-probably in search of food-and is very quickly surrounded by girls. I hesitate, then head off after Niall. My only friends are either my sibs or animals.

"Namir, I can't believe it!" Niall is saying happily to a young man about his age. "I didn't figure you'd be able to come to see any of us anymore!" He hasn't realized I'm here, so I slow down, ready to spring on him. The young man he's talking to-Namir-is looking vaguely uncomfortable, and doesn't seem to notice me either.

I throw my arms around Niall's waist, and he yelps and turns. "What the hell-" He can't see my face, as it's currently buried in his back, but he can see my hair. He sighs, then says, "Chailya, would you please release me?" I do so with a giggle.

By the way, I want you to know-I'm not simple-minded. I just appear to be. It's my personality-I've got an attention span so short, butterflies appear more intelligent than me. I'm actually fairly bright-I just can't concentrate. At all. On anything. Well, not for very long. I can't imagine why you're grinning. Anyways, back to the story.

"Who's this, Niall?" I inquire. "I've never met him."

"I know that, Chailya," Niall says patiently. "This is my friend Namir. Namir, this is my sister, Chailya. You've never met her."

"Once again, my friend, you're re-stating the obvious," the young man remarks, with a grin that's still slightly uncomfortable.

"Why haven't I met you?" I demand. He's nice looking-he has brownish-gold hair, and blue-green eyes. For some reason he's looking slightly scared by my intent stare.

"Chailya," Niall interrupts, "It's not polite to stare."

"I know that." Really. I do. I just forget sometimes.

Well, a lot of the time, really.

"And you haven't met me because my family lives deep in the woods, well away from here. Oh, and also, I was Chosen last Midwinter." The last part is tacked on to the end, almost as an afterthought. It doesn't matter-he's said the magic word. For some odd reason, Niall seems to wince. Ah, well.

"Chosen?" I ask. "What's your Companion's name?" He seems slightly surprised by my question. I've no idea why-it seems like a perfectly normal response to me.

"Her name's Fleta," Namir replies proudly.

"Where is she?" I inquire. "Can I meet her?"

"Umm…she's right…just a moment…" His whole face goes blank for a moment, then he blinks. "She's coming."

"Okay!" I chirp. He stares at me for a moment, then looks at Niall.

"Is she…all right?"

"By this, are you implying that my brain doesn't work like a normal thirteen-year-old?" I say brightly.

He blanches. "Uh-no-uh-I mean-"

"You'd be sort of right," I inform him. "I'm perfectly bright, it's just I have the attention span of-"

"-a butterfly?" puts in Niall helpfully. I nod emphatically.

"Yes, thank you, Niall. A butterfly."

At this moment, a Companion sticks her head out of the bushes. Namir's face gets the blank look for a minute, then glances around uneasily.

"Can we go somewhere else?" he mutters. Not waiting for an answer, he ducks into the trees. Of course, I follow, and Niall comes after me. Companions and Heralds are the one thing I can concentrate on for more than five minutes at a time.

When we've walked for about five minutes, Namir stops. "Here we are," he says. He seems slightly calmer, but he's still uneasy.

"This is Fleta," he says. I bow.

"Nice to meet you, milady," I inform her, all seriousness. Yes, I can be serious. Get that grin off your face. I know it's there.

Niall is staring at me. "You? Being serious?"

I glare. "Yes. Why, you thought I couldn't do it?"

"Umm…"

Namir looks bewildered, but in a different way. "You don't think she's a horse?"

It's my turn to look surprised. "Of course not! Everyone knows that Companions aren't horses!"

The Companion-Fleta, I remind myself-looks pleased, and snorts at me. Namir grins. "She says that she likes you."

"Really?" I'm delighted. And when I'm delighted, I tend to squeal. Apologies are offered to all who are offended.

"Namir, what's wrong?" Niall asks suddenly. "You're all jumpy-it's not like your father's going to jump out at you from behind a tree, or something! Something's bothering you-what?"

"It-it's nothing," he answers, glancing worriedly behind a tree-just in case. "Really, I'm fine."

"Are you shaych?" I pipe up. Both of the boys choke and turn red.

"Wha-Chailya, you're not supposed to ask someone randomly if they're shaych!" hisses Niall. Namir is red partly for another reason.

"She _knows_ that word?" he says in horror to Niall. Well, obviously I know it! Otherwise I wouldn't be using it!

"Well, of course!" I say, irritated. "Niall tells me stories about Herald-Mage Vanyel and Bard Stefan all the time, and sings me songs! He's a good storyteller and singer-he's told me about Windrider and Shadowdancer and Sunsinger and-"

"Yes, that's enough, Chailya!" Niall sputters. For some odd reason, both of their faces are turning an even darker shade of red. Boys are so weird. I turn my attention back to Companion Fleta.

My mind tunes them out, and my world focuses on Fleta. She's so white, the snow looks almost dirty gray in comparison. Yep, it's an overused description, but Niall's the one with the creative energy in the family, not me. I can focus, you know, but only on one thing at a time. This has probably been mentioned before.

Niall's saying something, but I ignore him. Fleta's much more interesting then what he's probably going to say, anyways.

"Chailya!" he practically shouts. I guess I can't ignore that.

"What!" I snap. Honestly, the nerve of some people-interrupting them in the middle of their thoughts!

Yes, I have thoughts! Don't think I can't see that smirk!

"Look up from Fleta for a moment, will you?" His voice sounds kind of-well, weird. It's annoyed, but with something else to it. How odd. I do what he says, though-he has that Chailya-I'm-going-to-strangle-you tone to his voice. Maybe that's the something else.

On the other side of the clearing is another Companion. I'm even more enchanted by her than I am by Fleta. Don't ask me how I can tell it's a 'her', I just can. It's odd, but everything's been odd for the past few minutes…

She steps fully out of the trees, and I see that she's wearing full formal tack. Which is actually fairly grimy. Namir draws in a surprised breath.

"Fleta says that that's Companion-"

_-I am Companion Zafia, and I choose you, Chailya Rhun.-_ The mare says this with a regal air, which promptly gives way under her squeal of excitement. _–Oh, and we're gonna fight demons and monsters and mages and bad guys and bandits! I can't wait to show you off to all of my friends! We're gonna have so much FUN!-_

I can't help it. I squeal too. Zafia and I bounce around each other for a good few moments before I fling my arms around her neck and bury my face in her mane. Then I hear an irate female voice in my head.

_-Oh, gods. Yuki is not going to be happy. Not only is Zafia coming back, she's coming back with a Chosen who's apparently as hyper as she is.-_ At this, not even Zafia can hold my concentration. My head jerks up.

"I heard that! And you're not very nice to say that!" I exclaim in annoyance.

--

Mwee…little mini-cliffhanger there. I love Zafia, so I couldn't just let her go away! The reason that she was gone for so long is in the next chapter.

Reviews are nice, as always.


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